Memoir
by Dixie Darlin
Summary: The fault is mine and mine alone. I have no one to blame but myself. No one forced me to do the things I did. They were all of my own invention, all my own choices….the wrong choices.


**Memoir**

Jealous. Evil. Lunatic. Game-jumper. Manipulator. Selfish. Prideful. Murderer.

All these words and more are accurate descriptors for me. My very name incites both fear and disgust in the hearts of all who know my story. Fear because the results of my actions have become a constant reminder to people that if they ever become too _selfish_ or _jealous_ that they may fall prey to the same demons that corrupted my soul, my very code. Disgust because the nature of my crimes left a somber and grim mark on the arcade's history; the unspeakable things I did are not what a _normal_ sentient being would do.

What are my crimes, you ask? For starters, I singlehandedly wiped out the existence of two perfectly functioning games: my own and my rival's. Oh, I could taste the bitter rage I felt when Litwak had the nerve to park that cursed game in front of mine where I could see it in all its glory. Day after day, I watched helplessly as gamers abandoned me and went to play the other.

I recall believing it was Litwak's fault. _TurboTime_ was his biggest moneymaker…it was _I_ that drew in the crowds, it was _I_ that kept his crummy excuse for an arcade afloat. And how did he repay me for all these years of servitude, hard work and more quarters than he could even count in a single afternoon? He goes and buys another racing game that outshines mine in every way…then has the audacity to position it in front of me where I can have the "pleasure" of viewing it every single second of my working day.

It was like he was mocking me, letting me know that he had found something better to replace me with, that he didn't need me anymore. It would only be a matter of time before gamers quit playing my game altogether and moved on to newer, flashier models. I would become unplugged…homeless.

To me, that was not an option. I couldn't spend the rest of my life begging for scraps in Game Central Station. It was beneath me to ask for help from "others"; it would have been an absolute disgrace for them to see the most popular arcade game character living lower than a commoner. They might would have laughed at me, telling me that I wasn't as special as I thought I was and that I deserved to knocked down a peg or two.

_Curse you, Litwak! How could you betray me like this! _I remember thinking_. I'll show you, you can't get rid of me that easily!_

I only had one choice to save my own skin: drive into _RoadBlasters_. I knew going in that one of two things would happen. The first was that the game would not accept my interference and experience technical issues, prompting Litwak to put it "Out of Order". That would result in it being carted away and _TurboTime_ going back to being the sole racing game in the arcade. The second was that, if the game _did _accept my presence, I could take it over for myself and become its new star avatar, forcing the gamers to play with _me_ the way they once had. I'd forget all about my own game and just live out the rest of my career in the newer one, not ever having to worry about being unplugged or homeless.

Either way, I would _win_.

The plan backfired. Both games went under because of my actions. I had nowhere to go, no one to take me in. I had to hide in the bowels of the Station for my own safety, secretly learning the wonders of code hacking. I told myself that I had still won, that Litwak would eventually pay for what he had done to me, what he had forced me to become. I would learn how to properly take control of another racing game, become a playable avatar again, be the _star_. That old fool would never know that it was_ my_ face that he was seeing every day, thinking that he had rid of me a long time ago.

Years went by. I had succeeded in commandeering _Sugar Rush_, a candy-themed go-kart game. I had locked up the memories of all its inhabitants and changed my appearance to that of a king. No one recognized me and thus accepted me as the rightful ruler. What happened to the previous ruler, you ask? Oh, that little princess became a glitch. I tore her code away from the rest of the game's, rendering her unusable and malfunctioning.

I got away with it for years, no one suspected a thing. I was happy to be loved again, respected and wanted. Until one day, everything changed: someone decided to follow in my footsteps and game-jump for their own selfish desires. That someone was Wreck-It Ralph, a giant of a man, and he figured out what I had done to the little ex-princess. That sugar brat unveiled my disguise, revealing my true identity for all to see. Everyone was frightened, repulsed, angered. No one wanted me there.

It isn't a good feeling to not be wanted. All I wanted was the attention I felt I so rightfully deserved. I was _Turbo_, the greatest racer ever! I was beloved all over and now look at me. I am nothing more but a blood-stained legend that everyone would rather forget about.

My code does not exist any longer; I died in a fiery tower of molten lava that the wrecker ignited. I can no longer cause harm to others ever again. Perhaps that is for the best. I had become a monster, a vile creature that I did not even recognize. How did I get this way? So much unnecessary violence and destruction littered my path to ultimate victory, only to lead to my demise.

I know those people I hurt did not deserve it. _RoadBlasters_ could not help that it was getting more players than I; it was not their fault that they were more popular than I. Litwak, he was just making a business move to earn more revenue. He knew that children flocked to newer games and he only wanted to spice up the inventory so that people wouldn't go flocking to his own rivals' establishments. That little princess…Vanellope…she was but a child who had done no wrong to anyone. She did not deserve to have her life to be stripped from her simply because I had mine stripped from me. I had inadvertently done to someone else what had been done to me.

If I could go back, knowing how things would turn out later on, I would do them differently. I should have been more humble, more thankful for the time that I did have ruling the roost at Number One. I should have accepting retirement with grace and relished in the extra free time I would have had.

The fault is mine and mine alone. I have no one to blame but myself. No one forced me to do the things I did. They were all of my own invention, all my own choices….the wrong choices.

So just remember this and heed my words. Don't let your stubborn pride get in the way of common sense and corrupt your morals. Instead of being jealous of those better than you or getting more attention, you should be congratulating them for their success. Don't blame others for mistakes and bad choices you make. Society shapes you, but you alone decide _how_ it does so. Control your anger; violence is never the answer.

And most of all be happy with yourself and what you have. Things could always be worse. The grass isn't always greener on the other side.

Take it from someone who knows.


End file.
